Somebody to Love (Crazy Little Thing Book 3)

by Serene Franklin

  “Only if I’m in the area. I’ve had a few jobs in the area over the years—nothing like before.”

  “Before I left, you mean.”

  “Uh, yeah.” My skin prickled, and my eyes darted around the room. No one was watching us, though.

  “Don’t worry. We’re not gonna get into that here. Eat up before it gets cold.”

  I gave him a crooked grin then devoured my lunch like I hadn’t eaten in a week. Remy asked me about my meeting with Braddock, and I recapped it for him, hesitating toward the end. He cocked his head at me, and I knew he was about to call me out for acting weird, so I just said it. “Braddock has been trying to get me to apply for a managerial role with the company. He thinks it would be good for me. It’s a significant pay raise and a fantastic opportunity.”

  Remy snorted a laugh. “Yeah, sounds like it. Let me guess—you don’t want it.” I didn’t have to answer; he knew damn well I didn’t. “You didn’t ask, but here’s my take anyway. I think you should do it. I know why you don’t want to, but I think you should. You’re great at what you do—your boss wouldn’t have suggested this if you weren’t—and it almost seems like it would be…”

  “Easier. Please, don’t try to spare me. Say what you mean.”

  “Yes, easier, physically speaking. Psychologically, it’d be a lot fucking harder. Your aversion to being the center of attention would be tested daily, and I know that would be difficult for you. It has to be something you truly want or you’ll be miserable.”

  I hung my head and groaned. That was exactly my problem. Any time attention had been on me in the past, it hadn’t ended well. As I got older I tried my best to keep out of focus. It wasn’t hard when I was next to Remy. If he were the sun, then I was one of the planets caught in his orbit. As much as I tried to hide, he strived to stand out—and he did. Always.

  “Hey, don’t get all sad on me. I’m not finished yet. It’s going to be hard for you, but I know you can do it, and I know you can excel at it. You’re not that same defenseless kid anymore, yet you still feel like him. I can promise you that no one looks at you and wants to laugh.” He eyed me almost appraisingly, then quirked an eyebrow. “Definitely not.”

  “People know what this scar means,” I said, referring to the scar on my lip. I didn’t have to point it out.

  “Gut reaction is that it looks sexy, Maxim. I hope you’ll understand that one day.”

  I dropped the conversation after that. It was a disagreement we’d had before, and one I’d even had with Mac on several occasions. I’d always wanted to believe Remy when he told me I was sexy or whatever, but it wasn’t how I felt. Getting stronger helped, though I clearly still had my hang-ups. Thankfully, we dropped the subject in favor of lighter topics for the rest of the meal.

  Back at my apartment, Remy saw to it that I took more medication, then he bolted for the shower to warm up. I tried to convince him to get a coat while we were out, and he’d insisted my sweater was fine. He was usually a better liar than that.

  While I had some privacy, I went into my closet and took down an old ring box I kept near the back of the top shelf. It was covered in dust but otherwise looked exactly as it had when I’d placed it there eight and a half years ago when I moved in. I flicked the box open with my thumb, revealing the two matching gold bands Remy and I had once worn. I’d started saving for those rings when I was fifteen and got my first part-time job. At that point I hadn’t told Remy how I felt. I knew that one day I’d marry him—and we came so close.

  I heard the shower turn off and scrambled to put the box back in the closet. Remy came in just as I closed the closet door. A white towel sat low on his hips, and his hair had been pushed back on one side as if he’d absently run a hand through it. Beads of water still clung to his gorgeous body and dripped from the ends of his hair.

  “I forgot to bring a change of clothes in with me.”

  A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “You always did.”

  “Some things don’t change.”

  “Some do.” I moved away from the closet and headed for the door, though Remy didn’t move aside. He took hold of my hand and laced our fingers together before drawing our joined hands up to his mouth. He kissed the back of my hand, then looked up at me with the saddest eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Max. I—”

  “I already know you’re sorry. Just tell me why. Please.”

  Remy pulled his hand from mine and looked away. His jaw twitched while he ground his teeth. I didn’t think he’d answer me, then he rolled his shoulders and looked me in the eye. “I wasn’t ready. I thought I was, and I wanted to be, but I wasn’t.”

  “Why not just tell me that?”

  “I panicked. I didn’t know what to say, and I couldn’t face you.”

  “Is that all of it?”

  He maintained eye contact with me and nodded, and I knew he wasn’t being entirely truthful. Something had to have happened that shook him to the core, and it was bad enough that he didn’t want to tell me. Or didn’t feel he could. Considering he’d just lied to my face, it was clear I wasn’t going to hear the whole story by continuing to push. I’d give him more time, and hopefully he’d tell me on his own.

  “Okay,” I replied, moving to step around him. He put his arm across the doorway, blocking me.

  “You were perfect.” He eyed me appraisingly from head to toe, then back up again. “You still are, Max. Don’t ever doubt that.” He lowered his arm, then waited, all the while keeping his heavy-lidded eyes on me.

  He was flirting with me, and I knew it was a distraction, but I didn’t care. I grabbed his waist and pulled him against me, nearly crumbling to my knees when he gasped. His chest heaved against mine, and his hands trembled on my waist. Thinking I misread the situation, I went to step back, but his grip tightened, then his lips were on mine. He tasted like mint and my long-lost salvation. My fingers dug into his hip and I deepened the kiss, needing more of him.

  It felt so good to touch him again—really touch him. I’d have sold my soul for the use of my dominant arm if it didn’t already belong to Remy. He stood on his toes and pulled me down to him for more. His kiss was greedy and full of the same need I felt down to my core. I lost track of time—of everything—until my lungs burned for a breath.

  We broke apart long enough to take a few breaths before Remy’s mouth sought mine out again. One of his hands was under my shirt, scratching my back while the other tugged at the short hair above my nape. I backed him against the doorframe and tried to reach for his neck when a sharp pain in my shoulder made me cry out.

  Remy pulled back, his brow furrowed in concern. “Fuck, did I hurt you?” I shook my head. My jaw was clenched tight to keep my teeth from clattering from the pain. “Get in bed. I’ll be right back.”

  I did as I was told even though there was no way I could fall asleep. Between the pain and rush from kissing Remy, I was wide awake. Remy returned with a glass of water and an ice pack. Still clad only in a damp towel, he sat on the edge of the bed and gently pressed the ice pack against my shoulder.

  “Trying to move was stupid,” he said with a crooked grin.

  I huffed out a short laugh and let my head fall back against the pillow. “I was a little preoccupied and not thinking straight.”

  “That so? And what were you trying to do?”

  My cheeks burned, but I didn’t look away. “I wanted to grab your neck. You always loved that.”

  He hummed. “Would you have told me I was yours? I always liked that too.”

  “Are you mine?” I hated how unsure I sounded. Even more, I hated that I’d asked him that. I’d inadvertently put him on the spot in the midst of a very complicated situation. And I didn’t want to hear the answer.

  Remy raked his teeth over his bottom lip, then cocked his head to the side. “I’ve always been, and will always be, yours. No matter where we are or how much time’s passed.”

  The confusion whirling inside me multiplied by tenfold, yet I
oddly felt a sense of comfort. Despite the time and the distance, I still had him. We clearly had more to unpack, but I hadn’t lost him. I turned my hand palm up on the bed, then smiled when Remy put his hand in mine.

  “Don’t look too happy, big guy.” He nodded toward the dresser. “I’m putting you on a full dose until whatever you messed up is better. And don’t you dare try to say you’re fine.” He waited for me to nod before he pulled his hand away and took out two tablets. “We’ll talk about what happened after you’ve had some rest.”

  He set the pills in my hand, and I took them without a fight. My left hand was free, yet he held the glass of water for me while I drank. A faint crease appeared between his brows, and I could only guess at the number of things weighing on his mind after what had happened just now. I didn’t fully understand it myself, but I was happy to do whatever he needed and not fret over the details until we had a chance to talk about it.

  “Will you lie with me?”

  Remy bit his lip again. “I don’t know if that’s wise.”

  “I won’t try anything.”

  “It’s not you I’m worried about,” he muttered. I slid my hand over his and rubbed the inside of his wrist with my thumb. “Fuck. Fine—but I’m putting pants on.”

  I looked away and slid over while Remy got dressed. He came back and crawled right into my embrace, settled against my chest. The sound of him breathing, his scent, and his weight against me all reminded me of how things had been, and how they still could be. Perhaps it wasn’t possible to pick up where we left off, and maybe Remy didn’t want to. I’d find out when I woke, so I tried to enjoy the moment as best I could. I fought against the drugs until my lids were too heavy to stay open, and I let Remy’s breathing carry me away.

  Seven

  Remy

  I’d lied again. It alarmed me how easily I could when I convinced myself it was for the best. What I told Maxim was only half of the truth, and it wasn’t the worst half. As much as I’d like to pretend that I didn’t know what came over me when I was giving Maxim my best “fuck me” eyes, I couldn’t. The thought of him walking away upset after we’d shared such a nice morning didn’t sit well with me. His smile was the most beautiful sight for my eyes, just as much as seeing him sad felt like a dagger in my heart.

  I wasn’t trying to manipulate him with the allure of sex—not entirely. I knew he wanted me, and I wanted him more. I’d only been ignoring my feelings to keep things from getting messy. It was so very clearly a bad idea, but I was the king of making those. Maxim was a tactile, affectionate person once he trusted you; it was killing him not being able to have intimate contact with me. Not necessarily sexual, though that was what had been driving me. I thought if this one bad decision would make us both happier, even for a moment, it would be worth it.

  Maxim never would have made a move without my consent, and I needed him to come to me. I practically laid myself out for him, and I had no shame about it. When he grabbed me, I wanted to melt against him. When he kissed me, I thought I had. Kissing Maxim had felt so natural—like the wasted years hadn’t changed a thing. I wanted everything from him, and I would have taken it had he not hurt his shoulder.

  When I woke up nuzzled against Maxim’s chest, I felt so disgusted with myself. What the fuck would I have done if we hadn’t stopped? I couldn’t mess this up. Thinking about the consequences of my actions was another weakness of mine. Being reckless was my standard operating practice; I shouldn’t have been surprised by my actions and desires. I was there to take care of him, and I’d remind myself of that every day if I had to.

  I got out of bed to get a start on supper and put some distance between Maxim and me. Putting pants on hadn’t stopped me from waking up all boned-up, so I left to go calm the fuck down. My culinary skills had improved slightly, though I was still pretty shit and stuck to basic meals. I finished all the veggie prep and was frying diced steak when I caught sight of Maxim leaning in the doorframe in my periphery.

  “Hey, feeling better?”

  “Hazy,” he slurred.

  “What about your shoulder?”

  “Doesn’t hurt at all.”

  I rinsed my hands, then dried them on a dish towel before going over to him. His pupils were huge, making his already dark eyes appear black. I quickly realized he wasn’t leaning to look sexy. After a little convincing, I led him over to the couch and sat him down before he fell over. It baffled me that such a big guy could be taken down by such small pills, but I wasn’t a fucking doctor, so what did I know? My only personal experience with pills came from oxy and molly, so I was hardly in a position to understand why drugs hit Maxim so hard.

  Supper turned out okay, though it would have been better if Maxim had made it. We finished eating and were watching Supernatural after calling and booking an appointment to see Maxim’s family doctor. Well, I was watching it. Maxim was lying down half on top of me with his head on my stomach, and he was asleep. I was half lying down myself, slouched low in a position that would have my mother chastising me. Kincaids were to be presentable at all times, and that included having perfect posture. Slouching was the least of my disappointments to my parents—the most by far was the gorgeous guy asleep in my lap.

  They didn’t care that I was gay. On the contrary, they fully supported my “alternative lifestyle” and donated vast amounts of money to LGBTQ charities. Me being gay was fantastic for the family’s public and social image—so long as my partners conformed to my mother’s standards, which Maxim did not. She wanted me with someone similar to me in social status, with the Ivy League education I was meant to have. In other words, a basic, boring, rich guy.

  She’d loved Maxim while he was my best friend, then that changed overnight when we became lovers. She tried to blame him for my rebellious behavior, but I’d been like that long before I met him. I was never going to be the media friendly son they wanted. Then when my sister turned fourteen, she decided she didn’t want to be the perfect daughter and turned into a punk princess with a penchant for black eye shadow. I, of course, got blamed for that.

  “That feels good.”

  Maxim’s deep voice startled me, though not enough to make me jump. No, it made me want to purr. “What does?”

  “Your fingers.”

  My brows drew together in confusion and I was about to ask what the hell he was talking about when he nuzzled against my hand—which was apparently resting against the back of his head, playing with his hair. My fingers stilled at the same time a surprised “Oh” fell from my lips.

  “You don’t have to stop. I don’t want you to.”

  His tone and heavy-lidded eyes conveyed the obvious meaning behind his words. I swallowed hard and put on my best poker face. “You’re high as fuck right now. Perhaps this isn’t the best time to finish our… talk from earlier.”

  “I disagree.”

  “It’s not a good idea. You’d agree with me if you had a clear head.”

  Maxim grinned and bit his lip sinfully slow. “You’re a bad liar, Remy. I can hear your heart beating.” His hand thumped lightly on his chest in time with my racing heart. “Try again, love.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath and closed my eyes. “We can’t get back together, Max.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m not… I just can’t, and I need that to be clear.” I felt his fingertips tracing my jawline, the touches so soft they tickled. My cock stirred and began to fill.

  “I understand,” he replied as his fingers traveled down my neck and chest, pinching my nipple over my shirt.

  The moan that fell from my lips was full of need—something I hadn’t recognized in my voice in ages. Maxim pinched me again, and my hard cock twitched while I moaned. Before I could stop myself I was lifting my hips, seeking any sort of friction in pants that were way too baggy for me.

  “Let me take care of you.” Maxim began to sit up, but I pushed him back down. He cast confused, dark eyes up at me but didn’t try to move again.

  “W
e can’t fuck. Not until your shoulder is a bit better.”

  “You mean we can’t until I’m no longer taking my medication.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I mean.” There was no use denying it.

  “I’m not going to change my mind, but we can wait if that’s what you want.”

  I didn’t miss the clear disappointment in his voice, nor did I miss the outline of his thick cock straining the fabric of his sweats. While it was true that we should wait, I wasn’t a fucking saint. Seeing Maxim hard and wanting me was too much to say no to. Rejecting him after I had started teasing would be a dick move, and I’d hurt him enough already.

  “Maybe you won’t. Just stay there for now.” I slid my hand down his chest and under the elastic waistband of his pants. Maxim’s eyes closed and his breath caught as my fingers wrapped around his cock. The feel of him hot and hard in my hand was absolute perfection. I didn’t have the patience to tease him, and his rapid breathing and pleading eyes told me he didn’t either. With a firm grip, I slid my hand up Maxim’s cock, pushing his foreskin over his sensitive tip, then reversed the motion with less pressure. I continued my measured strokes and held him down with my other hand while he writhed in my lap. Restraining his powerful body gave me a rush I’d long forgotten, and the longing in those near-black eyes staring up at me told me Maxim felt it too. Without taking my eyes off of his, I swiped my thumb over his cockhead, and nearly came in my pants when his expression went slack and his eyes widened.

  I wanted to kiss him so fucking badly, but I was transfixed by his gaze. Maxim looked at me like he used to—like I was his entire world. It flooded me with warmth yet also with longing for all that I’d deprived us of. I saw moments passed, and ones stolen from a life that could have been ours. And then I felt his fingers brush my cheek, and I saw only him.

  “Remy,” he moaned.